“In time, I doubt not your Majesty will lead your armies in person,” observed Seymour, in conclusion, “and then our foes may find that England possesses another Edward, valiant as the third of that name, or as the Black Prince, his warrior son.”
“Hereafter it may be so,” returned the king, with a gracious smile. “But, meanwhile, we must intrust the command of our armies to those better able to lead them than ourself.”
“Ah! here is a weapon that merits your Majesty’s attention,” exclaimed Seymour, taking down a large two-handed sword. “With this very blade your august sire often fought at the barriers with the Duke of Suffolk, who alone was his match. Your Highness will scarce wield it.”
“Let me try,” cried Edward, taking the mighty weapon, and vainly endeavoring to make a sweep with it. “Nay, in good sooth it is above my strength,” he added, resigning the weapon to his uncle.
“I will teach your Majesty so to handle it that it shall defend you against ten ordinary blades,” cried Sir Thomas. “As thus;” and stepping backwards to a sufficient distance, he whirled round the immense blade with extraordinary quickness—delivering a thrust with it and instantly afterwards a downright blow. “An enemy would have fallen for each of those blows,” he continued, laughing. “But the sword may be held with the left hand, and a thrust delivered in this manner,” accompanying the words with a suitable action. “But there is danger that your adversary may seize the blade, and pluck it from you.”
“So I should judge,” replied Edward. “Dost think thou couldst lift that sword?” he added to Xit, who was regarding Sir Thomas Seymour’s performance with admiration.
“I nothing doubt my ability to wield it, sire; ay, and to deliver a thrust with it for the matter of that,” replied the dwarf, confidently. “I have borne Og’s partisan, which is a larger weapon.”
“Give it him, gentle uncle,” said the king.
“‘T is not a toy for his hands,” cried Sir Thomas, flinging down the mighty sword with a clatter that made Xit skip backwards in affright. But he presently returned, and grasping the pommel with both hands, strove, but ineffectually, to describe a circle with the weapon. After repeated efforts, which put his own head in some danger, and caused the king much merriment, Xit was obliged to desist, and confess that the sword was too heavy for him.
Sir Thomas next explained to the king the various wards, thrusts, and blows that could be practised with bill, partisan, and halberd, illustrating his remarks with the weapons in question, which he handled with the greatest dexterity. The lesson over, Edward returned to the palace, and sending for Sir John Cheke and Doctor Cox, applied himself diligently to his studies, while Seymour, glad to be released, proceeded to the Wardrobe Tower.
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Chapter XIV
SHOWING HOW UGO HARRINGTON WAS ADMITTED INTO SIR THOMAS SEYMOUR’S CONFIDENCE
On entering his own chamber, Sir Thomas at once threw off the mask, and his esquire, perceiving from the expression of his countenance that something had gone wrong, forbore to address him, but watched him with a strange sort of smile as he flung himself angrily on a couch. After awhile, Seymour broke the silence.
“Thou canst partly guess what has happened, Ugo,” he said. “But it is worse than even thy imagination can conceive. I have lost them both.”
“Diavolo! both! In what way, monsignore?”
“The last person on earth I should have desired or looked for was a secret witness of my interview with the princess; and at the very moment I made sure of the prize, it was snatched from my grasp. When I tell thee that Queen Catherine stepped from behind the arras, where she had lain per-due, listening to all my love speeches to the princess, and registering all my vows, thou wilt conceive the scene that followed. Her majesty looked as if she could have poniarded me, as thy amiable Florentines sometimes do their faithless lovers. But this was nothing to the reproaches I had to endure on both sides. They are ringing in my ears even now.”